Shifted

13 - Werewolf Watch

Sirens woke up the still sleeping residents of Beacon Hills as three police cruisers raced through the streets. Fifteen minutes ago, the Sheriff's department received a frantic call from the former Sheriff's ex-wife saying that her ex-husband was dead.

All the patrolling cars who got the call from dispatch broke protocol to go to their former Sheriff's house. And the current Sheriff led the way.

Noah's first thought was that Dooley had a heart attack or his body just shut down after he played online poker the entire weekend without rest, something which he was known to do. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

On the outside, it looked pretty normal, the door to Dooley's house was open and his ex-wife sat on a tree stump crying her eyes out. But inside was a different story.

It looked like an actual battle was fought inside the house. The furniture were in various states of destruction, Dooley's computer lie broken on the hardwood floor, and the walls were dented, punched through and covered with blood.

And right in the middle of all this was Spencer Dooley twisted in an unnatural position, swimming in his own blood.

"What the hell happened here?" He asked no one in particular.

He tried to move. To start his investigation into what happened but his eyes kept coming back to Dooley's dead body. It was so surreal he almost expected the old man to jump up and yell at him for being so gullible.

The coroner had Dooley on his side and was looking at the bloody mess that was his back.

"Another animal attack?" He asked.

"I don't know about that Sheriff but who or what ever did this left with a souvenir."

The coroner pointed at what used to be Dooley's back and it was then that John saw something that almost made him lose his breakfast.

"His spine?" He gasped, "They took his spine?"

OoOoO

"What do you mean you can't play the game on Saturday?" Coach said as Stiles followed him into his office.

Stiles took some time to look around the Coach's office and the first word that popped into his head was, 'man cave'. Seriously, Coach Finstock's office was like his own personal sports cave away from home. There was a dartboard on the back of the door, though the target was filled with old receipts. Pride of place went to a blown up picture behind the messy desk of a much younger Coach Finstock wearing an old Beacon Hills lacrosse jersey and wielding a lacrosse stick. Smaller pictures like that were scattered all over the room, some were of him posing with other men in sports jerseys. Trophies, medals, and sports flags were everywhere too. Then he saw something that really shouldn't have surprised him. In front of one of the biggest trophies in the office was a picture of Coach Finstock with an arm around a teenage Derek Hale. Derek was holding up the trophy in the picture and he was smiling in a way the adult version has never done.

It was almost surreal to see his werewolf mentor be this happy and carefree. Now, Derek was burdened by grief and loss and loneliness that may not ever go away.

"Exactly that Coach. I can't play the game on Saturday." Stiles sighed. He knew that being a werewolf would have its problems but he never would have thought that playing Lacrosse would be one of them. Even Michael J. Fox was able to play basketball in that ridiculous werewolf movie Teen Wolf! But he knew he had to do it so he wouldn't end the night washing blood off his claws.

"You mean you can't wait to play the game on Saturday."

"Coach I'm not playing." Stiles said.

Coach Finstock narrowed his eyes. "You're messing with me. Is this another one of those Senior pranks you delinquents thrive in? Because if it is, it's not funny."